


Petulance Gets You Nowhere

by hitokiri



Series: Love Claims Possession [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Dean, Dean spanking Sam, Episode: s03e06 Red Sky at Morning, M/M, Petulant Sam, Spanking, Spanking with belt, implied bottom Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitokiri/pseuds/hitokiri
Summary: Dean finds a bullet missing from the Colt and knows Sam went after the crossroads demon despite Dean's warning. He has to punish him for putting himself in danger.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Love Claims Possession [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760491
Kudos: 52





	Petulance Gets You Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous ask:  
> "It happened again after the incident with the coma girl projecting fairy tales (not the nice ones) onto her town. Dean had found a bullet missing from the Colt the next morning. And he wasn't liking Sam's answers when he asked him about it. A sharp retort was ready on the tip of his tongue but he held it in. He held it in and jerked the car over to a stop at the next wide spot in the road they came to. "Outta the car." He said shortly as he followed suit himself, already taking off his belt. 💜"
> 
> originally posted on tumblr May 1, 2020.

“It was a stupid friggin’ risk and you shouldn’t’ve done it.”

“I shouldn’t’a done it? You’re my brother, Dean, and no matter what you do I’m gonna try and save you.

“And I’m sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, all right?”

Dean doesn’t say another word, but he grips the steering wheel so hard the leather whines in protest. He’s unbelievably pissed off that Sam put himself at risk like that, without any consideration for Dean’s feelings on the matter. His little brother is always taking unnecessary risks, and now he’s just so flippant about it -- truly a petulant little shit -- that Dean wants nothing more than to punish him, show him how wrong he is.

They drive in silence for a good 30 miles before Dean can’t take it anymore. He’s antsy, pissed off. He figured he’d cool off by now, but it’s just gotten worse. He keeps playing over and over in his head how Sam doesn’t seem to _care_ that he put himself in danger. Sam could have dropped dead had he successfully gotten Dean’s contract voided and Dean would have been none the wiser. He would have woken up alone in a motel room, no sign of Sam, until he figured it out on his own.

His stupid, wonderful, beautiful little brother.

He jerks the wheel hard to the right and Sam shouts out in shock as Dean pulls to a stop on the shoulder. It’s past one in the morning and they’ve barely passed any cars the past ten miles. It’s dark; this stretch of the highway doesn’t have any streetlights and it’s perfect. He cuts the engine and they sit in the dark for a few moments. Dean can feel Sam’s eyes on him but he continues staring into the long black road ahead, thinking.

After a few minutes, he hears Sam’s breath as he breathes in to speak, “Dean--”

Dean makes his decision.

“Outta the car.”

“ _Dean_ \--”

Clenched fists, a growl, “I _said_ \--”

The passenger door opens and Sam climbs out without another word. Dean waits for the telltale creak of the door and then the metal on metal sound of the door closing, jarring the car. He takes a deep breath, calms himself enough to step out of the car without shaking hands, and climbs out. Sam is waiting just outside the passenger door, his back to Dean and he leans against the door. Dean reaches for his belt as he walks around the trunk to Sam’s side.

The sound of the buckle attracts Sam’s attention and he turns his head, starting to push himself off the car and turn towards Dean. “No,” Dean growls and Sam stops. Dean gets the buckle free and yanks the strip of leather from his belt loops quickly. It’s dark, but the moon is waning gibbous, the full moon having been two nights before, and there’s barely a cloud in the sky. Sam was always beautiful bathed in moonlight, his silhouette ethereal. Dean takes a moment to appreciate his little brother’s features before he says, “Face the car, hands on the roof.”

Sam does as he’s asked, but like the annoying little brother he is, he opens his mouth to protest anyway. “Dean, come on--”

“Do _not_ speak, Sam.”

He admires the curves of Sam’s body, hidden almost completely by his bulky jacket and baggy jeans. He knows every curve, every mark, every single piece that’s a part of _Sam_.

Stepping behind his brother, he touches a fingertip to Sam’s tense shoulder, watches the way he jumps, not expecting the light touch. “Shh,” he soothes, running his hand down Sam’s spine, accentuating every curve below the jacket. “It’s just going to be ten today, Sammy,” Dean says, folding the belt in half after pulling his hand away. “I’ll even let you keep your jeans on. But next time you do something so reckless...”

Without warning, he brings the belt hard against Sam’s ass with a _crack_. Sam lets out something akin to a scream, whether it’s from the hit not being expected yet or from the force, Dean can’t be sure. He just knows he fucking loves it. He pulls his arm back and delivers another hard blow, making sure the belt smacks both of Sam’s globes equally. Sam’s hips crash forward against the window of the passenger seat with the force of the blow and the desire to get away from it, and Dean uses that to his advantage and plasters his body against Sam’s back. His little brother hisses when Dean’s hips push hard against his ass and grinds. He rolls his hips and presses his mouth against Sam’s jacket in a whisper of a kiss before he uses his free hand to pull the jacket aside, sinking his teeth into the meat of his shoulder.

Sam does scream this time and Dean pulls back completely, smug, then delivers three smacks to his ass in quick succession. Now Dean can hear the tears he was looking for, belts him once more and soothes the hurt with a palm. “Four more, Sammy, think you can take it?” he asks, though they both know Sam has no choice. “You know what I think? I think you should count for me for the last four, right, baby?” Sam doesn’t say a word -- _good boy_ \-- and Dean pinches his sore, round ass cheek, causing Sam to jump and yelp. “That’s right, you’re gonna count for big brother, huh?

“Get ready, Sammy,” he warns, then cracks the belt back down and Sam gasps out something that might sound like “seven” but Dean can’t be too sure. “What’s that, kiddo? I couldn’t hear you?” He pulls his arm back to hit him again, freezing in place as he says, “If I can’t hear it, you didn’t say it, right?”

“Se-seven,” Sam croaks out. His voice sounds wet, broken. _Good_.

“’Attaboy.”

He swings his arm and hits Sam harder, who gasps out, “ _Eight_!” and Dean smiles, pleased. He started feeling better after the first hit, but now the closer he gets to ten the more airy he feels, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He cracks the belt down again and Sam shouts, “ _Nine_!”

He presses against Sam again, the prominent tent in his jeans pushing against Sam’s abused ass. His little brother whimpers with the pain but he doesn’t say anything, just waits patiently for the rest of his punishment. “You’re being such a good boy, Sammy,” Dean whispers into his ear, basks in the shiver he feels run through Sam’s body. “Just one more for me, okay, sweetheart? And then I’ll find us a motel and let you sleep it off, huh?” He steps back, says, “Just one more,” and cracks it against Sam’s welted ass.

Sam cries his loudest as the belt comes in contact this time, screams out, voice shattering, “ _T-t-TEN_!”

“Yahtzee.” Dean’s belt hits the dirt under his feet and Dean moves so he’s pressed against his little brother’s trembling back, soothing his hands up and down Sam’s flank. “Shh, shh,” he whispers, kissing Sam’s tear-stained cheek, wrapping arms around Sam’s thin waist and just holding him. “You did so good, baby, so good for me. Did you learn your lesson?” Sam doesn’t answer, a sob leaving his lips instead, and Dean grinds his hips particularly rough against Sam’s abused ass, lets out a hiss because his dick really needs attention. It’s straining in his jeans, begging to be let out.

He wants to take it out, jerk off all over Sammy’s back and lay his claim on him completely. Thinks he might do that sometime, get Sam naked, spank him until he’s red and welted, and then rub his come into the raised and abused flesh until Sam could never mistake who he belongs to.

Rub his come in until Dean sinks into his flesh and owns him.

“I asked,” he growls into Sam’s ear, “if you learned your lesson.”

Through a barely hidden sob, Sam chokes out, “No, Dean,” so quiet he wouldn’t have heard him had he not been plastered against his back. “I-I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I feel bad. I’m going to do whatever I can to get you out of this deal, even if it kills me.”

Just like that, the anger is back. Dean grabs Sam’s hair with a clenched fist and yanks his head back, turns him so they’re practically face to teary face. Sam’s pretty face is red and blotchy from crying, from overexertion, and Dean loves this face. He’s loved Sam’s face for longer than he can remember. He’s always loved this face. It’s _his_ face, _his_ little brother’s pretty face. It’s all Dean’s. _Sam_ is Dean’s.

“Until you learn your lesson, I’m going to have to keep punishing you, Sam. Get in the car.” He shoves Sam’s head away, picks up his belt, and makes his way back to the driver’s side. He adjusts himself in his pants but doesn’t put the belt back on, instead throwing it in the backseat after he climbs into the car. Sam is slow when he sits, careful; Dean watches as he hisses, his face contorting in pain when he settles his full weight onto his hurting ass, and smirks in smug satisfaction, thinks, _I’ll do this every time he disobeys me_ , and starts the car. Thoroughly enjoys the way Sam squirms the whole way to a motel.

And if he purposely hits some bumpy parts of the road and drives slower than normal, that’s no one’s business but Dean’s.


End file.
